Flames Of Anarchy
by Deluxemclovin
Summary: Regardless of social upbringing, some people are just naturally despicable. However, even the most unhinged of maniacs can find love in the world of remnant. Can a pyromaniac find someone to soothe her inner flame, or will she simply get burned? Eventual OCxRoman.
1. A Fresh Start

**AN: Hey ya'll, Mclovin here to bring my second story that I found some motivation to type. I was feeling in love with Roman in particular lately so I figured I'd do something about that.**

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" _YOU FUCKING LIAR"_! I heard one of the men from across the room scream as a small table was flipped over and cards were sent flying in multiple directions. I paid little mind to the card game. Nobody would dare to break the rules of our group while I was around. All in all, it was a little depressing to see what our small band of misfits had been reduced to. Where we had been a thriving little community of one-hundred and fifty, we were now at a meagre thirty-three.

"Rather sad to think about what we could of been..." I muttered to myself dejectedly. More than half of us were now in prison. Our whole dream of freeing the people of Vale from the tyranny of the council was fleeting. It was surprising how many of us were still around and hadn't left for 'bigger and better things' as some of the old deserters put it. They claimed our group was 'a relic of the past' and 'could never get itself off the ground'. I remember welcoming their departure for their faithlessness. In our group of revolutionaries, these times were what tested the determination of our members and if there was any benefit from this, it was that by the end we'd manage to sever our weak links.

"M-Ma'm"? I was shaken from my inner thoughts as one of our fresher recruits spoke up. Yes, I suppose I was quite the intimidating figure from up here on my yard chair throne; stacked on top of a row of barrels with makeshift wooden stairs leading upwards towards it.

"Yo. Ya'll are a bunch of nervous wrecks when you first join up. Like, just call me by my name. It's Paraudonuoti, but I like you so much you can call me 'Para' for short". I gave him a smirk and he seemed to loosen visibly in face of my easy going nature. That was better.

"Sure thing Para," he said with a small bit of hesitation, but I waved my hand and bid him confirmation to continue on.

"We'll...it seems as though a lot of the guys are unhappy with the way things have been going. The police have already busted half of us, and another fourth of us have gone on to work for that Torchwick guy...I was just thinking...maybe we should do something to raise morale around here instead of sulking around and waiting for the cops, or even hunters to bust us. I hear Torchwicks been making off with a pretty hefty amount of Dust. Maybe we could try and move in on that front before he gets a whole monopoly on the Dust robbery game? You know"? He paused after his brief monologue and clasped his hands behind his back in hopes that he didn't offend.

I was angry. I shouldn't of been, but I was. Maybe it was my inner acknolwedgment of my failure as a leader, or maybe I really was offended by the fact this grunt seemed to know what was best for our ailing group. I always welcomed an open door policy to suggestions, but having the obvious thrown right in my face was enough to get my blood boiling. The recruit could tell I was annoyed by the furrowing of my brow and lack of response, but before I could formulate a proper one, he stuttered various apologies and ran off towards gods knows where. I wouln't bother looking for him since there was hundreds of places he could hiding in this warehouse complex. I sighed exhasperately, and laid back in my provisional throne. A few more minutes of listening to the bitching of poker games and degenerates fighting over alcohol, and I managed to drift off into a light sleep. I'd need more time to think of a solution to all these crackdowns.

 _"Now Now Now, I'm sure you kids can do a much better job working for me than for your failure of a boss taking a nap over on that prettied up lawn chair,"_ I heard someone comment and I opened my eyes to reveal everyone crowded by the entrance to the warehouse. What was going on? I groggily stood up and grabbed 'Ifrit', my weapon and personal crafted flamethrower.

 _"No need to get violent sleeping beauty. I was just pointing out that your guys seemed to be pretty unhappy in this shabby place, when they could be doing so much better working for me,"_ the voice continued. Rubbing my eyes, I managed to place the face to the voice.

"Torchwick"! I shouted and stomped over towards the crowd.

"In the flesh. Now I'm sure you'd love to give me a whole tirade about how I shouldn't be here, and to get out, but just hear me out sweetcheecks".

"Get-"! I had started but Roman had cut me off, predicting my next statement. I glared at the crimelord, but nodded in acceptance. In reality, brokering a deal with Torchwick might have been in our best interests if our small group was to survive much longer.

"You're ' _Noble'_ and _'Righteous'_ band of anarchists isn't doing too well from what I've heard. It's a shame really. You all did a great job at distracting the police during my Dust heists, but with the intervention of a huntress lately I've found myself requiring the manpower of folks who know how to...get dirty if you get my drift. Juniors men were alright for extortion, but I found their actual combat expertise to be lacking". Roman strutted forward and I didn't bother to raise Ifrit to threaten him. I was interested in hearing the rest of his proposal.

"So what I want is for you to pack up your things and to come work for me instead. Not only will you not be stuck dreaming of the day you can stop the _big bad government_ , but the retirement benefits at 'Torchwick Incorporated' are second to none," he encouraged and flashed a smile at the group.

"You get paid well, I assure you. You'll be going head to head with law enforcement, but with the resources of me and my associates, it'll be much more smooth than with those pea shooters you call weapons". He gestured to the matchlock pistol of one of the greenhorns. I was also rather surprised at the presence of such an ancient weapon.

"Another plus, is that you'll be able to get vengeance for all your buddies that the fuzz has managed to put behind bars. Maybe even free them if the time calls for it"! I found myself rather pleased by the words and his charismatic approach. I had already proved myself as a failure of a leader, and with a man like Torchwick at the head, we might actually have a future for ourselves...myself...instead of lingering in abandoned warehouses. My earlier irritation subsiding in the crimelords presence, I gave the man a toothy grin. Before I even had a chance to accept or deny Roman's offer, I found most of my group heading out the door to a group of trucks situated outside. Some were very intent on taking Roman's offer without my consent it seemed. This was only further confirmation of my failure as group leader.

"Well Torchwick, I can say that it's pretty shitty 'round here. Fuckin roaches and all. The boys wanna go with you regardless of what I choose. So yeah, we'll work for 'ya". I said and strapped Ifrit to my back. My acceptance seemed to please him as he came around and put his arm around me shoulders.

"Great choice hon. I see us doing lots of great work together,"! He assured me.

"Aye. I can tell I'm going to have a lot more _fun_ ". I responded with a mischievious grin plastered across my face.

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 **AN: Hope ya'll liked this chapter. I have high expectations for myself with this fic. ^^**


	2. Flames Of A Feather Burn Together

**AN: Second chapter here. WOOT! I have a general idea of where I want this story to go, and as of right now I'm looking towards making it eventual OCxRoman. How I get there is still in the works. I've been trying to get my character away from the whole 'edgyMcEdgelord' trope that seems to consume some OC's. Let me know how I've been doing so far!**

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"So, you ever think of just changing your name? I get that it's cultural and all, but that's a real mouthful." I ignored Mr. Torwick's trivial complaints as I inspected myself in my new attire in the mirror. My crimson red hair was neck length now and out of the way of my dark brown eyes. Instead of my previous coat and ripped pants, I now donned a black suit with a red tie. I didn't think I'd ever worn anything this nice in my life. I was more of a person for casual clothes. In my previous line of work, it was better to dress functionably instead of fashionably. That didn't seem to hold precedent anymore now that I was acting as one of Torchwick's bodyguards. The rest of the boys had been split up since signing on, with some going to moving dust shipments, and others being hired as general muscle. I patted down my slacks and glanced down to make sure my dress shoes were in acceptable condition.

"Well ya' seem to be pretty good at coming up with some names ya'self. What would ya' rather call me?" I asked. It only took me a few seconds to realize the hole I'd just dug myself at that instance.

"Well I would normally just call you Red, but I'm saving that name for this certain little brat I know," I paused, somewhat curious about that story. I'd have to question Torchwick about it later.

"How about 'Pyro'? Or 'hot-stuff'? Maybe even 'Sweet-", He paused at my accusatory glare. He smiled innocently and waved his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"Alright alright. Hot-stuff it is." I groaned at the name, but Torchwick didn't seem to care one way or another. I was on the payroll after all, and he had the liberty to call me by whatever name he saw fit really. Torchwick looked me up and down to make sure I was in an acceptable state to accompany him to a meeting with his 'business associates' as he liked to term them.

"Now I just got to ask though. This has been killing me since the first time I met you, illustriously snoozing upon your lawn chair. What's your angle? I mean, your twenty-three and you were tragically driven to being an anarchist?" I held up my hand in signal for him to pause. I really wasn't in the mood for getting into my life story now, but I could at least give him my reasons for doing what I do.

"My life isn't particularly tragic. I was middle-class, and had everything I could pretty much want as a child. I was happy, shit, I suppose I still am." He seemed pretty put off by my declaration, but I stood up and flashed him a grin.

"My mother is a Huntress and my father is an ex-hunter. He works for the schnee's as an overseer at one of their faunus slave mines now. Dirty work, but boy did he bring home the bacon. One day he decided to bring me to work with him, I was pretty young and it was a last minute decision. Mom got called out on an 'excursion' or whatever the fuck, and they didn't want me home alone and 'blah blah blah'." I waved my hands so he'd get the point.

"One thing my parents never agreed on was their feelings towards Faunus. My dad really fuckin' hates Faunus. Like a lot. While I was with him, I got to watch those savages tear each other apart over the smallest bits of extra food. Disgustin' damn animals is what they were. This is how they acted unsupervised by their betters. I thought, how would people act without some council to tell em' what to do?" I elaborated. Torchwick seemed pretty unimpressed by my story so far. I didn't really blame him.

"So you fought the government because you were curious?" He seemed rather incredulous about my reasoning. I should probably tell him I had more than just one reason for doing so.

"Well, not just that." I added as my expression grew a bit more sinister and my grin morphed into a wicked smile.

"It's all about that rush you get when you fight. When you cause violence. I mean, have ya' ever held the life of someone else in the palm of your hands? To see the look on a persons face before you immolate them?" I gestured over towards Ifrit against the wall.

"It just so happens to be that I'm much more satisfied when the 'law goes up in flames', if ya' know what I'm sayin'." Roman seemed successfully put off by my morbid explanation. It was better than this way than trying to justify my political spectrum to him.

"Well uh...lets see hot-stuff. You seem pretty good to go right now. Just keep your math shut, don't say anything stupid, and everything should be over rather shortly." He explained. I rolled my eyes and hummed in acknowledgement. He was pretty eager to avoid the topic of immolation now. I grabbed Ifrit and allowed it to shift into its more compact form as a large briefcase before trailing off behind Roman.

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I was unaware of Roman having another personal bodyguard aside from me. This 'Neo' chick as Torchwick referred to her was elegantly dressed, but didn't indicate anything that would make her dangerous. She carried an...umbrella thing? I looked on with a mildly unimpressed face. How do you even kill people with a fuckin' umbrella? Beat them with it? I snickered at the thought of this midget beating some big thugs into bloody pulps with it. Unfortunately for me, humor wouldn't save me from the stares I received from the woman dressed in an elegant red dress and her colorful associates.

"Something funny henchman?" Cinder asked curiously. I wasn't sure if I should of been relieved or even more scared at her tone of indifference. Roman sighed, and I felt I had just fucked up.

"I-I nah." I blurted out. Smooth...real smooth.

"Nah? Roman, what kind of illiterate backwater thugs have you been forced into hiring now? Though I suppose brawn and brain are requisite trade-offs for one or the other," Cinder insulted. I wanted to retort, but she quickly approached me and gave me a look over before looking towards Neo, who simply shrugged.

"Well if Roman hired you as one of his bodyguards, you're clearly good for something. Tell me, what is it that you do so well?" She questioned, and I could feel myself swell with pride. What was I good at?

"Fire, intimidation, and general violence," I hurriedly voiced. These were the first things to pop into my head on a short notice, but Cinder seemed unimpressed at my answer.

"We have enough brutes around here, and I'm sure Roman is good enough at violence on his own. What special skill do you possess that makes him want to hire you? Your semblance perhaps?" She inquired. She became disinterested in me as quickly as she had saw fit to acknowledge me. The meeting would continue undisturbed for another ten minutes, and I would go change the first chance I got. Then, it was time for work.

"I'd hate to get soot all over this nice suit after all."

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 **AN: Well the ending felt a bit rushed, but I'm not too sure. Feel free to fav, follow, and review. Heck, go ahead and PM me suggestions for the story if you'd like, and I'll see about implementing them. I may like my character and story, but I know you peeps have plenty of great ideas too. All constructive criticism is welcome!**


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